A Song of Seasons
by TheFinalElements
Summary: It was early in December, when the first flakes of snow fell from the sky. ON HIATUS.
1. Prologue

**Hey, guys!**

**This is my third story on this account. Third attempt, I guess. The two others have both been failures because literally nobody reviewed them until like a century later(The case of my Warriors fanfiction. The other just had one) I hope this is better than its predeccesors(Oh whoops I spelled that wrong)and everybody who reads it likes it. I really had fun killing, though. I'm a serial killer when it comes to writing *Brings out knives***

**The prospect of writing a story that expresses emotion rather than action is inspired by ScytheRider's Eon Fable You should read it, people.**

_**Update: I have changed the genres from Hurt/Comfort/Angst to Hurt/Comfort/Adventure. Also, from now on, I will be constantly changing the characters shown on the summary until there are only main characters of the story, though Druddigon will always be there. This is to prevent any confusion on why I put in pokemon that are not in the story. **__**Most of you are probably wondering why Altaria is stated, even when I didn't even mention an altaria anywhere. This is because it will appear as an important character in later chapters. The axew is present because it will be in the next update. *Cough*Two Spoilers*Cough* No, just kidding.**_

**Without further ado, read on!**

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><p>It was early in December, when the first flakes of snow fell from the sky.<p>

They covered the landscape in a soft white blanket, weighing down the naked skeletons of trees and collecting on the broad surfaces of holly. No animal went outside, no living creature dared to break the smooth white ground that shimmered softly as rays of stray sunlight fell upon them. It was a peaceful world out there, a perfect wonderland of white.

The snowfall continued, sending flurries of snowflakes drifting to the ground, settling one after another.

From a small hollow in a rotting tree, a sneasel poked his head out, only to shrink back into the cavity with a small yelp when a thin film of snow settled on his head and ear. From inside the safety of the tree, the sharp claw pokemon marveled at how something so small could dominate everything. He wondered how much snowflakes it would take, one by one, to pile up and cover the trees, bushes, and anything it can reach for miles and miles.

And for once, he wanted to be as powerful as snow. Snow was dangerous, snow was a symbol of strength.

But of course, everything had its weaknesses, the sneasel thought, brushing off the snow on his head. It was already starting to melt into water by the warmth of his head. The water trickled down his slick dark fur in rivulets, but not before making an impression on its host, leaving it with nothing short of a brain freeze.

He wasn't affected by the coldness. Sneasels were ice type pokemon after all, and the partial alliance to cold had its benefits.

But to other pokemon, snow could kill. It would strike while its victim was asleep, sucking away all its energy with every cold prick of its touch, and melt. But snow could also preserve, and prevent bodies from rotting and becoming part of the earth, and save bits and traces of life from being wiped off the face of the planet.

In a way, the soft, white, and presumingly fluffy substance could determine someone's demise as well as help someone prosper. He just had to face the good side, and make snow his ally.

It had been a month into his pilgrimage, a ritual every young sneaslet had to do in order to prove themselves worthy for joining a tribe. They were to be cast out for half a year, and survive with no help at all. Nothing, except their sharp wits. And the particular member was confident he would survive. He was literally the alpha of his litter. While he was thinking, something caught his eye.

Without another though, the bipedal pokemon jumped out of its shelter in the hole and dashed toward a large stone looming in the distance, not caring whether anyone saw his bright red ear-feather flapping like a beacon in the breeze and the shallow two-toed tracks left in his wake.

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><p>When the sneaslet poked his protruding head into the cavern, he knew that the impulse was nothing short of a vision of greatness. His red pupils focused on the distinctive blue and red of a great Druddigon, her rough hide broken up with scars that marked the victories and losses of a lifetime.<p>

Fortunately for the sneasel, the lumbering mass of a dragon-type didn't notice the potruding yellow gem, nor the feather on its ear. The rest of Sneasel's body was soon enveloped by the shadows as his ducked inside the cave.

The sneasel repeatedly blinked his large eyes as they adjusted to the gloom of the cave. It was surprisingly warm for such a thing made out of rocks, at least compared to the ongoing flurry of snow outside. With his adjusted night vision, the sneasel expertly sidestepped a puddle of collecting snow-water, gracefully clearing a pile of pebbles, weaving past muddy patches, and staying in the shadows while at it.

Sneasels were designed to stalk their prey swiftly and silently, in the darkness.

Of course, the sneasel wasn't going to attack the female druddigon. That would have been suicide. He was aiming for a small round object that was in her embrace, spotted with colors that matched her own. Just the sight of it made his stomach flip in hunger, for he hadn't eaten for days now.

It was an egg. To be exact, a druddigon's egg.

Eggs were a delicacy among the sneasels and weaviles. It took a skilled creature to track down the egg, lure the mother away from it, and capture the egg. He could eat the small, undeveloped baby inside, and save the eggshells as proof of an accomplishment. Then no one would laugh at him anymore.

He has already tracked down the egg. Now he had to lure the parent away from it.

Easy, if you knew know to do it.

Stealthily, the sharp claw pokemon bent down, his claws curling around a stray stone on the sandy gravel. The rough basalt was about four inches wide, and felt increasingly heavy in his hands. There were more than enough lying around. With a deft flick of his arm, the sneasel flung the stone outside, into the snowstorm raging outside.

It met it's planned target a second later, diving into a snow-laden bush. The plant shook furiously, a shower of white splatting onto the ground as the snow on its leaves slipped away. As if on cue, a slumbering rattata was pulled out of its hibernation and with squeaks of alarm, scurried away in the snow.

Sneasel's plan worked. The mother druddigon snapped her head toward the commotion, and, thinking it as some sort of threat, lumbered toward it. The sneaslet waited until the last of her spiked tail disappeared from sight, and quickly advanced toward the single egg huddled in a pile of boulders. His feet skimmed the ground, until he reached his food. Since there was no time to take the egg back, he would eat it on the spot. The sneasel reached his claws forward, ready to break the thin outer layer like he'd been taught to do.

And for the first time in a long time, he hesitated.

The druddigon egg was translucent, and he would see the shadow of an almost fully developed baby beneath the shell. It curled up in a tiny ball, floating in the yolk of its shelter. He was committing murder in a way, killing an innocent soul before it got a chance to experience the pleasures of the outside world that was waiting for it.

"It has to be done." He whispered, then before he could change his mind, dug his razor-sharp claws into the eggshell, pulling it apart.

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><p>Nothing. Absolutely nothing.<p>

The druddigon was confused for a brief moment as she scanned the landscape around her den. The only set of tracks were hers, plus the rattata's. There seemed to be no pokemon in sight other than her. She shook herself to dislodge the gathering snow, growling as more took its place. She would be going in soon, after making sure there was no threat to her developing egg.

Then she saw it.

There were a set of two toed tracks, as clear as day at the other side of the den, she followed were the tracks pointed, a skill that she excelled at after tracking prey for many years. Her yellow eyes followed the tracks until it stopped…at the entrance of her cave.

Druddigons were smarter than people think. They could solve quite a few logic problems. When the mother druddigon saw the clues, it took no time at all to piece then together to a final conclusion-someone was in her home.

She roared with immense fury, then stormed into the cavern like a tornado in the loose. Nobody was going to hurt her baby!

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><p>The sneasel jumped as the mother druddigon appeared in the entrance, her eyes filled with hatred. He wanted to run away before any damage was done on him. Normal druddigons were not like ursarings. They would only kill in anger if you actually hurt their young. He wanted to run away, he wanted to with all his life. But as he looked at his claws, which were coated with egg yolk, he knew it was too late.<p>

The egg was in pieces now. Its shell was split in half with a few flakes lying here and there, coated with a sticky liquid. In the middle of the wreck, a premature druddigonet lay, curled in a ball. He couldn't even tell whether it was breathing or not.

The sneasel looked around frantically. In the panic, he couldn't think straight, and as the last resort he made a mad dash toward the entrance, furthest away from the raging dragon-type. Bad mistake.

Druddigons weren't exactly known for their speed, but that didn't make them slow on their feet. In a few seconds, the druddigon had crossed the small distance, and was grasping the ice-type by its neck. She squeezed hard, powered by the adrenaline of her loss.

The sneasel let out a squeal as he was lifted off he ground. He had underestimated he cave pokemon. When he though his lungs would burst, he was forcefully thrown face-first onto the ground, crushing the layered snow with his face and stomach. It was cold, with billions of tiny needles piercing his face.

_ROAR_

The second blow came down as the move Dragon Claw, aiming for the sneaselet's shoulder.

Pain. The sensation exploded in his right shoulder, searing through his whole body like a wildfire. Unbearable agony racked his whole body, as the blood trickled out, staining the white canvas-like ground a dark crimson. A series of shrill cries rang out from the ice and dark type pokemon, breaking the winter stillness.

When his vision cleared for a while, he saw that his whole arm had been marked with three long claw marks. The fur around it was bloated and swollen.

_HISS_

The third blow was on the side of his face, the claws slashing his cheeks. The widening lake of crimson kept growing. He was dying, it was obvious. Soon to be only conspicuous spot in the snow, not where a former life had fought his last battle, not where a youngling sneasel once loved had passed away, but rather just a spot filled with the stench of death, the only visitors being mandibuzz.

The sneaslet braced himself for the fourth blow,, but it never came. The mother druddigon had abandoned him, probably to look after her baby. So the young sneasel lay alone, helpless, before he finally lost the ongoing battle with snow.

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><p>"No, no, no…" whispered the druddigon after dealing with the sneasel, as she scrambled to where the egg lay in ruins. She choked down a sob, brushing away the eggshell pieces before gingerly picking up the tiny child in her arms. "Please…don't let her be dead."<p>

But when she pressed the slimy yet precious life to her heart, she could just hear the faint _ba-dump, ba-dump _of a heart that refused to lay before death. She let down her tears, and cradled the baby in her arms. The druddigon had a mother's heart, and she loved what was in the egg. However, her eyes just couldn't help but notice how hideous was the mixture of green and orange covered the deformed creature.

It was early in December, when the first flakes of snow fell from the sky.

_TheFinalElements presents_

**_A Song of Seasons_**


	2. Anouncements (Yet again!)

The first thing I have to address is: Song of Seasons is officially done. It's ended before it even started.

The first part I'll have to blame it on me for not pressing the save button whenever I finish a paragraph. The second I'll have to blame it on my computer for being broken and leaking power, so it has to be plugged in 24/7. The word I have to blame on the stupid app that I type my stories on for not having an automatic save every few minutes. The fourth I'll have to blame it on my dad for FREAKING PUTTING A PASSWORD ON MY COMPUTER.

But here's the whole story. My computer happened to be not plugged fully in (the charger was right beside it but someone might have loosened it), I didn't save, and I couldn't get back in to save due to some FRICKING PASSWORD, and I lost my whole story.

I'm really sorry to all those who anticipated the next chapter, but this is the third time it happened. I tried to reason that maybe this would turn out to be an amazing story, my patience has been completely gone. Imagine typing 3,000 and more words, then having it all disappear. Then you'd see why I'm tearing my hair out at this.

I'll be writing more one-shots from now on.


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